


You and I Were Fireworks

by Rizhae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm so sorry for the horrible summary, M/M, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizhae/pseuds/Rizhae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of things have changed since July 4, 1996, but the fact that Sam needs Dean and Dean needs Sam is something that will never change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I Were Fireworks

Sammy?” Dean glanced over from where he had been blowing on a red white ad blue pinwheel, constantly, for at last the last twenty minutes. 

“Yeah? If you were going to ask, yes, I want you to put that thing down and leave it alone.” Sam rolled his eyes, not exactly mad but definitely nearing frustration.

“D’you know what today is?” Sam’s eyebrows drew together in a little gesture of confusion.

“It’s the fourth. Of July. Pretty sure you already knew that.” He could tell Dean had some other point that he was trying to get to, but if he wanted to say something, he should just say it outright.

“Yeah, it is. Remember that one, when we were kids, uh- ninety six?” Sam nodded, looking up from the book he had been browsing and giving Dean his full attention when it became clear he probably wanted it. 

“Of course I do. You got loads of fireworks, it’s probably a miracle we didn’t burn down half the state.” He tucked an errant lock of hair behind his ear. “Why bring that up now?” 

Dean shrugged. “Nostalgia? I guess. Put the book down and come have a beer.” Technically, the book was already sitting flat on the table, since it was too heavy to reasonably be picked up to read. The point was clear, though, and Sam got up to cross the small room to the minifridge and grab a beer.

“That was probably one of the best nights of my childhood. Or- maybe just the best. I dunno. One of my favorite memories, at least.” If Dean was going to reminisce about the past, then Sam was more than happy to join in- there was enough negativity in their lives that ignoring the scattered good moments wasn’t an option.

“Me too. About it being my favorite, I mean. Like, even after all the crap that’s happened, that still sticks out. I still remember how happy you looked, that whole night.” Sam nodded.

“You too, though. You looked sorta smug, like- proud of yourself?” Sam half-shrugged. “Random details stick out really clearly. That’s one of them. And that you almost blew your hand off when you lit the first one.” He laughed a little, and took another long sip from his drink.

“I also remember you burned your arm on a sparkler and almost cried.” Dean’s tone was teasing, but light enough that there wasn’t really any intention of being mean.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what else you expected. I was twelve. I thought it’d be cool to try to do tricks or something with it.” The scar had long since faded, but Sam brushed his hand over the spot where it had been anyway.

“I thought you weren’t the show-off type.” Sam shook his head.

“I wasn’t. But you were my older brother and so much cooler, or- whatever. I think I felt like I had to prove myself to you. And, well… we see how that went over.” He poked at where the scar had been, more pointedly. “I was sort of a dumb kid, in that respect. Like, wanting validation. Or something.” His tone made it clear that he wanted to brush it off, like it was no big deal, but Dean wasn’t having it. 

“Seriously? I mean, I get thinking I might be a role model or something, especially when you were little, but- really?” Sam nodded, letting out a light sigh.

“Yeah. Sure. Always, though, maybe not just when we were little.” He hadn’t ever really thought about it, hadn’t let himself think about it, but he realized it was true- even though he knew Dean noticed him, there was some part of him that had constantly sought out his approval. 

Dean didn’t respond for a moment, expression pensive. “I guess I noticed that. I sort of doubt it makes any difference, but you never really needed to get approval from me. You were always my favorite person.” It was incredibly cheesy phrasing, and Dean’s tone was awkward and blunt, but the point got across. 

“Just ‘cus we never stuck around for you to get to know anyone else as well.” 

“Don’t think so. I mean- that night with the fireworks, ever since and maybe even before then…” Dean trailed off, like he was unsure he should finish his sentence.

“Yeah?” It wasn’t like Dean to be uncertain with words, he usually blurted out what he was thinking when they had conversations like this. Sam wasn’t concerned, exactly, but he was definitely intrigued. He looked over at Dean, a few feet away from him on the couch, and studied his pensive expression.

“Favorite person is probably the stupidest wording ever, but it’s but like- it’s not like it’s not true” Sam frowned a little, not quite sure how to react. 

“Nobody else has ever been around for us like we have for each other. I guess that makes sense. And I mean, if we’re picking favorite people, you’d win, hands-down.” Dean smiled a little at that. 

“I’m flattered, Sammy,” he teased, but there was something like relief underlying his words. 

“I mean it.”

“Not the same way I do, you don’t.” And the slight smile was gone, faded in the blink of an eye to something more severe. “I- y’know what, never mind. I didn’t say that.” Except that he had, and Sam wasn’t going to let him drop it that easily.

“No. Come on, talk to me, explain what the hell that’s supposed to mean.” Dean shook his head, leaned his head back to empty the rest of his beer on one gulp, and got up, heading for the door.

“Dean, please wait.” Sam might have been able to brush off the offhand comment before, but it was the way Dean was reacting to his own words that was concerning. When Dean didn’t stop, Sam got up and followed after him, not bothering to try to hide the fact that he was tailing him.

Predictably, he made a beeline for the car, but rather than getting in and storming off, he settled himself so that he was half-sitting and half-leaning against the hood. Sam wordlessly mirrored his position, but looked over at Dean expectantly. 

It was late; most of the fireworks had stopped by now except for the occasional muffled explosion. Dean’s head was tilted back, looking up at the sky like he was watching some amazing display. 

“Are you going to explain what you meant, by that?” Sam asked, breaking the silence between them a few minutes later.

“No. I don’t know. Probably not.” Sam rolled his eyes at the passive answer. 

“Okay, let me rephrase- what did you mean, that I don’t mean it the same way? You’re my brother, you’re a hell of a lot more than just my brother, and in case you hadn’t noticed you’re pretty damn important to me.” 

“Shut up, Sam, just- stop. Please.” Sam turned to look at Dean, trying to figure out what was going through his head.

“And why the hell should I? There’s pretty obviously something bothering you, you’re not really hiding it that well. So- talk to me. Since when has bottling things up and not talking ever worked for us?” He had a point and Dean knew it, couldn’t possibly argue with it. 

“You said I’m more than just your brother. What did you mean by that?” It wasn’t an answer, not really, but it pointed in the right direction.

“It meant whatever you want it to mean.” That wasn’t really an answer either, really, too dismissive to be worth anything. 

“It meant everything but what I want it to mean.” 

“Then, explain. Because I’m lost, and you’re not telling me what you mean, and that’s just…” He sighed, still looking over at Dean, noticing the way his eyes seemed just a bit brighter under the light of the moon.

“I-“ Dean tore his eyes away from the sky and looked at the ground, then at Sam, then back at the ground. “I don’t know what I mean. You’re my brother, I shouldn’t- I don’t know what I want.” So, they were back to incoherent answers again.

“Dean, just- breathe. Calm down. I’m not gonna be upset with you, or anything, for whatever this is.” Sam was more concerned by Dean’s hesitancy to talk to him than the content of what he might be trying to say, at least for a moment.

“You will, though.”

“I won’t.”

Dean sighed, raising his eyes to look at Sam again. Sam felt like he was being X-rayed, or examined. “You’re my brother. Which sort of means I shouldn’t want to kiss you as much as I do.” 

“Oh.”

“See? Now you’re gonna be pissed at me. Like I said.” Dean forced his tone to be even, but his fear of Sam’s reaction still clearly shone through.

“I’m not.”

“You should be, you-“ Dean’s eyes opened almost comically wide, like he had only just really heard Sam’s words. 

“I’m not mad. Sort of the opposite, really.” Now it was Sam’s turn to glance away, looking towards the sound of muffled firework explosions even though he couldn’t actually see the display. He was trying to process Dean’s words- All of the years of doubt, of self-loathing, of thinking his brother would hate him if he ever said anything… 

“Does that- does that mean I can?” Sam had rarely heard Dean so uncertain, so doubtful of himself. Sam nodded, taking a half-step closer so their thighs were just slightly touching. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you can, um-“ He nodded again, just a little. 

Dean leaned in and pressed his lips to Sam’s, lightly and briefly. There was no wild lust behind it, no need for anything more than that, not yet. 

When Dean pulled away a moment later, his cheeks were painted a bright red that was just barely visible in the dark parking lot. They stayed like that for a moment, only a few inches apart, both waiting for the other to react. 

It was Dean who finally did. “I- I bought sparklers, today.” The sentiment of the seemingly random statement wasn’t lost on Sam. “Just like the ones from back then.” 

Sam smiled and leaned in again, their second kiss lingering only a moment longer than the first. “I promise not to burn my arm this time.”

A fireworks show a few blocks away was reaching its finale, the scattered pops from before reaching a cacophonous crescendo. Dean stepped away from Sam just enough to retrieve the box of sparklers and a lighter from the trunk of the car.

Dean lit one for each of them and handed one to Sam, then returned to where he had been before- crowded into Sam’s personal space a little, maybe, but it wasn’t like the two of them ever really needed or wanted to be apart.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't completely awful, I wrote the whole thing today so... oh well. Quality isn't a thing I can do. I'm ssastielss.tumblr.com if you're into that sort of thing!


End file.
